


Stains.

by asailoratheart



Category: Maksyl-Fandom
Genre: A little introspection never hurt nobody, F/M, I like it in there, I'm in Maks' head again, Maksyl, glimpses and such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asailoratheart/pseuds/asailoratheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never leaves lipstick stains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stains.

**Author's Note:**

> My own brainchild. No prompt this time, just a little time spent in Mak's head.
> 
> Enjoy!

When they were on Dancing, she never left lipstick stains.

He would’ve _killed_ to have been marred by the red, dusky lip then…worn it proudly.

But no, he was not so lucky.

Kisses to his cheek didn’t leave him with a mark that screamed of her, that showed she had been there. She was leaving marks, _sure,_ _invisible and sacred_ , all over his heart and soul for weeks and all he wanted was one that showed, screamed to the world for however short a time: _'hers'_. He’s not ignorant, no, far from it. Knows that all the little marks helped made him to change, have made him show a side to himself that only those closest see.

He is stained with her, _kindness, brightness, genuineness_ , and he doesn’t want to be clean. In the past he would’ve rid himself and showered, _scrubbed raw and soaked_ , himself so that he could stay intact. Now, he savors and holds reverent every little touch her fingertips leave. When she is gone, it’s as if his soul is bereft of its counterbalance, it’s safe haven. He has her leave her marks in love bites at midnight to neck and collarbone, and bruised lips tired of saying goodbye.

He doesn’t need lipstick stains now like he was hoping for then. No.

Having her, _body, mind, soul_ , is enough to leave its mark. It’s enough to show the world that what they are, who they are together and separate, is something fair and pure. He loves knowing how she takes her coffee, how she prefers the left side of the bed, how she fits _just so_ against his body. She invades _his senses, his home, his family_ so fully he doesn’t acknowledge a time that she wasn’t there.

He makes one request, when they return to Dancing the following year, _hands, hearts, lives_ entwined. The smile she gives is knowing and he loves having the knowledge that she’ll humor him.

When they’re done performing, a show-stopping performance in the middle of the finale (‘ _A treat,’ the producers had said, ‘for everyone to see you two back on the ballroom floor.’_ ), she does what he asked her to.

She leaves a lipstick stain. 

He smiles, she laughs and neither care when Tom gives them grief— _“Hey you two! Enough of that!! Crazy how a year will pass and these two are still at it with the over the top PDA, eh?”_ —because how could they?

Stains, _small, large, invisible_ , are sort of their thing, after all.


End file.
